


Love, Faith and Chastity

by calmersky



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmersky/pseuds/calmersky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not for the first time, Obi-Wan is the target of some unwanted female attention. At least Anakin hopes it is unwanted. Obi-Wan, as usual, is endearingly oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Faith and Chastity

 

Princess Aliana, the King's eldest daughter, known affectionately by her people as the “Crown's Jewel,” is world-renowned for her intelligence, courage, and beauty. Which is fine. She seems nice enough. Anakin even kind of likes her. It's just that he would like her a lot more if she wasn't harbouring a severe case of unrequited lust for his former Master.

At least, Anakin _hopes_ it is unrequited.

“I see you have an admirer. Again,” he says, frowning across the field.

"Hmm? Oh, you think so?" says Obi-Wan, who hasn't noticed, of course. "Oh dear."

Marginally reassured, Anakin watches the young woman until finally, noticing—very likely _feeling_ — his scrutiny, she tears her eyes away from Obi-Wan and turns to make her way back to the royal tent, sneaking a final look back towards them before she disappears inside.

"I could always speak to her,” Anakin says. “Tell her the truth."

Obi-Wan does not laugh, or scoff, or say anything in response, at first, although when Anakin glances up to gauge his expression he thinks that he maybe, just maybe, spies a sliver of a smile before it is replaced by that familiar, mild-mannered disapproval.

"I don't think that would be appropriate, Anakin."

"Why not?"

Obi-Wan stops, looks into the distance, and sighs. "You know why."

 _But hiding is cowardly_ , a younger Anakin might have said in reply, once upon a time. But now, a little thrill goes through him, instead. Obi-Wan would not want to hide unless he felt something for Anakin, something beyond what Jedi are supposed to feel.

Anakin would shout the truth from the fifth spire of the Temple, and the Code be damned, if only Obi-Wan would allow it. But his former master, his friend, _his lover_ , is such an infuriatingly private man. In fact, Anakin thinks, even if they did not face such intense complications, Obi-Wan would no more share details of the Skywalker-Kenobi relationship to a young woman on an unremarkable mid-rim planet than he would to a reporter for the holonet's worst gossip channel.

*

Later that evening, Anakin is picking his way around the embers of camp fires, making his way to bed, alone, in his pavilion tent, when he spots the princess slipping into the adjacent tent. The tent belonging to Obi-Wan.

Amusement mixing with dread, Anakin slows his approach. Experience tells him what will almost certainly happen next, but he can't help wondering if this will be the night when it does not. Sounds float over the sultry air: music laughter, singing, and occasional cheer floating from the infantrymen's section of the camp. Here, there are only quiet murmurings. The victory celebrations are over, and the nobles have already taken to their beds.

Anakin is a few paces away from the tent when the princess emerges, shoving the flap of a door aside, cheeks flushed and eyes brimming with tears. She ignores him completely and marches away, hugging her cloak to her body.

Sensing her humiliation, he feels a spark of empathy, but it is short-lived because he's too busy being relieved. After a few seconds he opens the door flap, and leans inside. "Okay to come in?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Obi-Wan is seated at a makeshift desk comprising a storage crate with a blanket laid on top. There is a datapad in front of him, and he's scribbling on flimsiplast with his favourite old stylus.

"For the record, she didn't look too happy," Anakin says.

"I'll never understand why some people feel the need to show their gratitude in such an… intimate manner."

Obi-Wan's hair glints like liquid fire in the lamplight, and his tunic is loosened at the front, revealing an enticing triangle of skin.

Anakin bites back a smile. "Because that's why they throw themselves at you. Out of gratitude."

"Well, that is what she said. Are you implying she had some other motive?"

"No, no, of course not. So, what did you say to her?"

"That we helped her people because it is our duty to do so. That, as Jedi, the knowledge that we saved many lives is reward enough for our efforts. And when she still wasn't persuaded, that, personally…" Obi-Wan pauses, running his finger along a line on the flimsiplast and frowning, then taps on his datapad, scrolling through the pages.

"Yes?"

"Blasted navicomp."

"Obi-Wan—"

"Do you know the coordinates of the Arkanis system, off the top of your head?"

"Three-two-hundred, five-seventy. You were saying, personally, what?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. That, personally, I was resolutely uninterested."

"Ouch."

"I expect she'll eventually get over the tragic disappointment and go on to live a meaningful life."

Attention still on his work, Obi-Wan waves his fingers in the direction of the table. "There's fresh water, if you'd like some, and a bottle of good brandy to take the bitterness away. It seems the King also appreciates our help."

Anakin pours two glasses of water, and sloshes pale yellow alcohol into each.

"She's very beautiful."

"Don't think you flatter me with envy, Anakin. You've had your share of attention and you're quite welcome to mine too. In fact, why don't you go after her?"

"Now you're being sarcastic."

"No, I mean it. You're a young man. I would not like to think your experience of life has been limited because of personal loyalty to me."

Anakin crosses to Obi-Wan's side and puts one of the drinks down on the desk.

_I hope you're still joking. I hope you know I couldn't._

"Obi-Wan, what worries me is..." Anakin starts but then stalls, trying to decide if he should just shut up. Trying to decide if he wants to know the answer to this half-formed question.

Obi-Wan looks up, "Go on."

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Forget it."

Obi-Wan puts his pen down. "No, tell me."

Anakin takes a large gulp of his drink, and carefully puts the glass down on the desk. "I was just wondering—I suppose I always wonder—if you are ever tempted, you know… to… accept."

It is not an unreasonable question. There is no rulebook covering the etiquette of screwing your Master, former or otherwise, and it's not exactly the kind of thing to go searching for in the archives with Jocasta Nu's wrinkly nose poking over your shoulder. And it has occurred to him that one explanation for Obi-Wan's occasional, perplexing comments about not expecting Anakin's fidelity is that Obi-Wan might have other lovers himself. The very idea makes Anakin feel so sick that he hasn't been able to find the words to ask. Until now.

Then he realises Obi-Wan is looking at him, utterly confused.

"Anakin, were you listening to me at all a moment ago?"

"Well, I—"

"Aside from the questionable morality of such a liaison, why in the galaxy would I want her, when I have you?"

Anakin suspects this might still be sarcasm, but, to his surprise, he finds unguarded honesty radiating from Obi-Wan.

After staring for a moment, he grins broadly. Obi-Wan smiles back, a little shyly, then busies himself shutting down his datapad, blushing.

Obi-Wan stands up, tipping his head to one side to stretch his neck, running the back of one hand over his eyes.

"Here. Let me." Anakin places his hand, the one of flesh, on Obi-Wan's neck, and gently kneads the place where the muscles are knotted and sore. When he feels Obi-Wan relax, and drop his chin to his chest, Anakin splays his fingers, and—tentatively, because, even now, he is not quite used to the idea that he is allowed to do this—strokes them upwards, into the soft hair at the back of Obi-Wan's head.

Slowly, Obi-Wan turns into the curve of Anakin's arm, and looks up. His eyes glimmer with humour, his expression soft. "You are aware that this is a tent,” he says. “Make a sound louder than a squeak and the whole camp will likely hear."

"Are you implying I can't control myself enough to be quiet?"

"Quiet is not good enough. Silent, perhaps, might do."

"Hmm. I don't know. Where's the fun in that?"

Obi-Wan lips are just millimetres from Anakin's. "Do you want to wait?"

"No. Do you?"

"Hardly."

"Then…?" Anakin leans in.

"Then we'd better do this my way." Obi-Wan twirls under his arm and steps away, crossing the room to the silk curtains that surround the sleeping area.

"Your way?" Anakin begins to say, too loudly, before he remembers to whisper, "I didn't know you had a…"

When Obi-Wan's clothes start to appear through the gap in the curtains, Anakin stops trying to say anything, tugs his boots off, and discards as much clothing as he can manage to remove in the time it takes to cross the room.

Inside, gloriously naked, Obi-Wan is propped by one elbow on the bed's thick cushions.

Anakin grins and crawls onto the bed. He reaches for Obi-Wan but is stopped with a look, and a shove to his shoulder that leaves him lying flat on his back.

Obi-Wan sits up beside him, smiling as a strokes a hand so gently along Anakin's jawline, shoulder, chest, and over the ticklish spot between belly and hip, making him shiver. When Obi-Wan's hand lingers there, Anakin begins to squirm, and then laugh, but he's silenced by Obi-Wan's finger against his lips, and then distracted by the other hand now working on the fastenings of his leggings, which are still, unfortunately, very much on. Obi-Wan must be torturing him on purpose, because it never usually seems to take _forever_ , and when warm, rough fingers finally close around his aching flesh, Anakin very nearly cries out, but then Obi-Wan's mouth is against his, moulding their lips together, sliding his tongue against Anakin's, swallowing his moans.

He feels Obi-Wan smile because he's been proved right. Anakin has just enough time to think what he would say, if he was allowed, which is that this is all Obi-Wan's fault in the first place, but then Obi-Wan replaces the firm strokes of his hand with with wet suction of his mouth, which makes no sense because they're still kissing... meaning Obi-Wan is using the Force to... _uh_... _oh stars..._ and with that Anakin forgets about thinking, and surrenders to sensation, allowing Obi-Wan to show him just how much he still has to learn.

*

Obi-Wan wakes him before dawn. "Hey, sleepyhead. Getting-up time."

Anakin nuzzles the pillow, sliding his arm around Obi-Wan's waist. "Muh-huh… five more minutes."

Obi-Wan pats him on the shoulder. "The servants will be doing their rounds any second. You'd better go."

With a groan, Anakin sits up, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, I love you too."

It was meant to be a joke, but as he hears himself say those words his throat closes up and his mouth is dry before the end of the sentence. Skin prickling, he risks looking down at Obi-Wan, but his eyes are still too blurry with sleep to see clearly.

Obi-Wan sits up, and, raises a hand to Anakin's cheek. He opens his mouth, as if to speak, but then slides his hand around to the back of Anakin's neck instead, and pulls him into a soft, lingering kiss.

When they part, he rests his forehead against Anakin's. “Anakin...” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “My Anakin...please, whatever happens... never doubt that I feel the same. Never.”

Relief and happiness flood Anakin in turn, but the desperation in Obi-Wan's voice is haunting, and Anakin is struck by the sudden need to reassure and protect this man, who has given him so much. He very nearly says it, then: the unsavoury, selfish thought that must have surely occurred to Obi-Wan too.

_They can't separate us. They have no choice. They cannot afford to lose a single Jedi General, let alone two of their very best. They need us._

But he can already see the dismay on Obi-Wan's face. The guilt. The revulsion.

So Anakin says nothing, smiles against Obi-Wan's lips, and then turns away to find his clothes.

*

The princess is not present when they bid their goodbyes to the King and his advisors. Afterwards, Obi-Wan boards their ship to program the navicomp while Anakin makes last-minute adjustments to the port side engine. He's half buried in machinery when he senses her approach.

She does a pretty good job of hiding her surprise when he ducks out from under the engine, but he can still feel it.

"Oh… General Skywalker. I thought you had already left."

She's lying. He smiles, wiping his greasy hands on the back of his leggings. "Just about to. Are you looking for Obi-Wan?"

"No, as I said—"

"He's already aboard, if you want to say goodbye. I could call him down…"

"No, no. Please don't disturb him." She looks up, a little wistfully, towards the cockpit window, then back at Anakin. "My people will always be indebted to you and General Kenobi for your help. Please thank him on my behalf."

"I will." _And I really will, you can be sure of that…_

She sighs, quietly, and, now, when she is no longer any kind of threat, Anakin genuinely feels sorry for her. He takes her offered hand, pressing his lips to the back of it in the traditional farewell of her planet's genteel class. "Obi-Wan is completely devoted to the Jedi Order. He takes his vows very seriously," he says, allowing the incorrect implication to hang in the air, hoping she will take comfort from it.

"You believe so?" She looks him straight in the eye, her lips curving in a mischievous smile. "Then I am much mistaken. In fact, I don't how I missed it before, because it seems startlingly obvious to me now that he is completely devoted to _you_."

Before he can say anything in return, she turns on her heel, and leaves. This time she does not look back.

Anakin can't help but grin to himself. See? He knew he liked her. Beautiful, courageous, intelligent, _and_ perceptive.

He shuts the engine access hatch with a satisfying click and steps onto the landing ramp, heart lighter than he can remember in a long time. Whatever challenges lie ahead, he and Obi-Wan will overcome them. They always do. They're a team; they're _the_ team.

And everything's going to be just fine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is a revised version of a fic originally posted to my fanfiction.net account


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